


The stars belong to us

by scrared



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alien Oikawa Tooru, Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Space, Established Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Fluff and Angst, Hanamakki and Matsukawa fuck with everyone, Iwaizumi does not get payed enough, Kunimi Akira is a Little Shit, Multi, Oikawa Tooru Likes Outer Space, Pining Kyoutani Kentarou, Seijoh are trying to save the world, Yahaba Shigeru is trying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27943427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrared/pseuds/scrared
Summary: In which Seijoh save the universe, and maybe each other along the way.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kindaichi Yuutarou/Kunimi Akira, Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, past kageyama tobio/kindaichi yuutarou
Comments: 7
Kudos: 22





	1. In which objects start floating, and naturally it's Oikawa's fault

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually really excited about the idea for this fic, I hope I do it justice :)

Ok, it was official. Oikawa Tooru was having A Day.

Just so nothing is misunderstood in the next few minutes or so, he was normally a great example of a human being. The subject of millions of crushes from planet to planet, the role model of kids across the galaxy, the best pilot in the entire damn league. Normally, though, Oikawa Tooru had his shit together. Right now, he did not. He really, really, did not.

He’s not even sure when it started, actually. Was it this morning, when he woke up earlier than normal because of a couple of angsty teenagers that decided directly outside Tooru and Iwaizumi’s room was the best possible place for a fistfight? Or was the beginning of the week, when Makki and Mattsun had decided that it was absolutely necessary to see which one of them could eat the most cheese in five minutes, and Tooru had to clean up the absolute tip they met behind them?

Fuck it, maybe it was the minute he was assigned the captain and pilot of the Seijoh Division. Or before that, when he decided to become a paladin in the first place. Thank god for Iwaizumi, because Tooru would have absolutely committed murder by now if not for the constant dread that his best friend would probably not be too pleased with Oikawa landing himself in prison.

Ok, he was being a little unfair. Things could be worse. They really could. He loved his team, he really did. Kyoutani and Yahaba were both fantastic paladins, as long as they weren’t in the same room. Hanamakki and Matsukawa were some of the best mechanics in the league, and as a pair they were unstoppable. Kunimi was a genius, and Kindaichi had never done anything to warrant Tooru slandering him like that. Iwa-chan understood Tooru better than anyone else in the galaxy, and was one of the most powerful tanks in any division outside of Shiratorizawa Division.

There was that, too. A parallel universe version of Tooru somewhere had accepted the offer to join the Shiratorizawa division, and then he’d have to deal with Ushijima’s freaking Wakatoshi every day of his life. Things could be so much worse.

Besides, he had chosen this. Years ago, he had made the conscious decision that he wanted to spend the rest of his life flying through the universe, saving lives with a team of paladins just as dedicated as him. He had chosen to enter the leagues training program. He had worked his ass off for three long years to earn the title of best pilot in the league. He had chosen this, and if he could go back in time he’d choose it all over again.

It was hard to remember that though, when looking at the bowl he was currently levitating a foot off the floor.

In Tooru’s defence, it’s not like he was ever under the impression he was human. The whole having-to-wear-contacts-to-hide-his-colour-changing-eyes and also never-letting-anyone-touch-his-almost-suspiciously-poofy-hair-because-he-has-fucking-horns-hidden-under-there thing had been kind of a giveaway, to be honest. Also growing up in a family of Kraii until he was 6. Plus the whole Starship Massacre thing was sort of an unforgettable hint. On the bright side, at least traumatised six-year-old Tooru had understood the one basic rule of life. _If they ask, you’re human._

The thing was, there was a small difference between knowing you’re an alien and levitating a bowl of cereal a foot off the floor.

Sure, he knew that theoretically, there was a tiny chance he would have telekinetic abilities. He knew that him always knowing just when to dodge was a little less like luck than minor inherited precognition. He knew it wasn’t his flawless people skills that made him understand what others were feeling when talking to them, but rather minor empath abilities stored in his DNA.  
But that had never really felt real. Maybe he had been lying about being human for so long that he had started to forget that he was actually Kraii. Maybe he should have seen this kind of identity crisis coming when he decided to sign up to join the paladin league. Where was his stupid minor precognition when little fourteen-year-old Tooru had decided to join the fucking space police set up by the inter-stellar association of fucking humanity, huh?

Or maybe it was less that he had forgotten he was Kraii and rather that he had started to think it didn’t matter. Started to think he was actually walking on an even playing field, that he could live his life the same as Iwaizumi and Makki and Mattsun and Kageyama and fucking Ushijima. The cruel truth was that maybe the reason this was so terrifying was that he had started to think life was fair.

You’d think he’d know better, after losing so many times, after putting so much blood and sweat and tears into winning. But no, apparently Tooru still had to have some faith in the justice of the world, because here he was, absolutely terrified of a floating bowl half full of milk that stood static, half spilled from the atrocious neon blue plastic container he had the misfortune of pulling out of the cupboard five minutes ago.

It was pretty cruel though. Even amongst Kraii, it was extremely rare to have any kind of telekinetic abilities. Although abilities might be a bit of a stretch. Given he hadn’t tried to make the eyesore of a bowl float in the air. He wasn’t even trying now; he was a little too busy having an identity crisis.

Could he even put it down? He actually had no clue how he was doing this; he just knew he was. The same way Oikawa Tooru had brown hair; Oikawa Tooru was best friends with Iwaizumi Hajime – Oikawa Tooru could make things float. It just was.

Was it meant to be a kind of instinctual thing? Maybe it was a kind of self defence mechanism, and he couldn’t actively control it. He should probably ask Kunimi later, he would know. It was his job, after all.

Except Kunimi wasn’t an idiot, it wouldn’t take him long to put two and two together. Oikawa also wasn’t an idiot – he knew what would happen if the inter-stellar association of humanity discovered one of their best and most popular paladins in their fantastical little space-police wasn’t actually human.

He’d unquestionably be kicked out of the league. Probably get arrested too, for identity falsification at the very least, if not accused of being a rebel spy or something. Not to mention his family would probably have a couple of heart attacks, because it’s not exactly a common occurrence to discover your adoptive son actually belongs to a race of aliens they’d probably ignore if they saw in the streets.

Not that they were bad people. It’s just that everyone ignored what they didn’t want or need to fix. Which, he guessed, is what made it so fucked up in the first place.

Because really, why should him being Kraii change anything about how people see him as a person?

Whatever. It wasn’t like they’d ever know.

You know. If he could figure out how to get the bowl out of the air.

After a solid five minutes of trying to think the bowl onto the floor and asking himself what would Iwa-chan do, he tentatively poked the bowl. It moved a couple of feet in the air, and a few splashes of milk and soggy cereal splashed onto the floor, but it remained stubbornly afloat.

He poked it a few times, to no avail. Then he pushed it a little harder, but it just moved further. He considered trying to hit it into the wall, but Iwaizumi would probably demand an explanation for why Tooru was throwing bowls of soggy cereal at walls. If it didn’t just keep floating, that is. He’d probably have bigger problems if Iwaizumi walked in on him floating the aforementioned soggy cereal in mid-air.

Ok, to be fair, Tooru probably shouldn’t have been thinking about Iwaizumi walking in on him floating the bowl in the first place. He was tempting fate, and you know what, fate could have this one. Like Iwaizumi said, pick your battles. Granted, he also tended to tell him he was picking too many battles, but this was one battle that Tooru honestly didn’t care about fighting.

Wait. Where was he going with this again?

Oh yeah, the imminent threat of Iwaizumi walking in on him suddenly developing telekinetic abilities. That.

Tooru decided to just snatch the bowl out of mid-air as the door swung open with a silent slam. The slam was perfectly intended, even if it was silent. Tooru knew Iwaizumi well enough at this point to know that, at least.

On the downside, that meant Iwaizumi knew him well enough that he would be perfectly justified in questioning why Tooru was standing in the middle of the mess room, holding one of the bright blue plastic bowls and standing in a puddle of milk-cereal mush.

If anything Iwaizumi’s stupefied expression only seemed to make the whole thing worse. Because what if he figured it out? What if Tooru hadn’t snatched the bowl up far enough? What if – wait, was Iwaizumi wearing the Godzilla pyjamas Tooru had got for him like two months ago? He though those had been destroyed in an impromptu fire.

Totally coincidental, of course. Iwaizumi had sworn it.

Granted, he had also sworn that Oikawa would be murdered before the age of fifteen by a vengeful stellasaur when they were both 12, and that hadn’t happened. So maybe his swearing abilities should be questioned.

Now, there were a few ways to react to a stupefied and just-woken-up-and-had-to-stop-those-two-idiots-knocking-each-other-out-right-in-front-of-our-room Iwaizumi. A stupefied Iwaizumi who was probably questioning why he had put up with Oikawa Tooru for a good thirteen or fourteen years his life, and what sequence of decisions had been made to lead him to this moment. Tooru knew the feeling.

Option 1 was to explain himself before Iwaizumi started trying to guess what was up. Option number 2 was to deflect and bring the conversation around to something else. Option 3 was to annoy Iwaizumi enough that he’d forget his best friend was standing, covered in cereal, and probably looking like he was near tears.

Although honestly options 2 and 3 normally ended up being pretty synonymous.

“Morning, Iwa-chan!” Tooru grinned, waving sheepishly. “Do my eyes deceive me, or are those Godzilla pyjamas the same ones I got you when we were on Earth a few months ago?”  
Iwaizumi just stood in the door for a few more seconds, shaking his head slowly in a way that reminded Tooru of a slightly horrified mother cat trying to figure out when he had signed up for this bullshit.

After a good thirty seconds of nothing but the sounds of the ticking clock and the slight buzz that came with inter-stellar travel, Iwaizumi finally managed to pull together a response from the last few braincells he had left, which were probably trying to drown themselves at that very moment. “You know what, Shittykawa? I don’t have the energy for this. I don’t. I really, really, don’t. You do you. For the love of god though, clean up when you’re done, I don’t need anyone else injuring themselves because of a moron that apparently thinks breakfast is best when served fresh from the floor.”

“Yes, mom.” Tooru grinned, flicking some of the milk towards Iwa-chan, grinning sheepishly when he got nothing but a tired glare in response. “Seriously though, are Kyouken-chan and Yahaba ok? I don’t want to have to explain to the commander that the reason two of my division have black eyes isn’t because they were doing their jobs, but because they constantly feel the inexplicable need to beat the shit out of each other.”

Iwaizumi sighed, almost falling into the chair in a way that indicated maybe Tooru wasn’t the only one having a tough week. Granted, Iwaizumi probably hadn’t just discovered latent alien powers that could ruin his life, so Tooru felt pretty justified in feeling like he was worse off.

“They’re fine, but you should talk to them at some point.” Iwaizumi gestured for the box of cereal that Tooru had honestly forgotten was sitting right next to him. He shoved the box towards Iwaizumi, humming in agreement as he waited for him to say more. Because there was always more with those two.

Indeed, Iwaizumi sighed deeply before going on. “Don’t be too hard on them. Seems like they’re just trying to figure shit out. Besides, they’re great paladins individually, just –”

“Not when they’re in the same room as each other?” Tooru finished, laughing softly. “Don’t worry, I’m well aware.”

Iwaizumi frowned at Oikawa a bit, before shaking his head. “Go have a shower, Shittykawa. Just don’t use too much water, we –”

“Need to stop to get more supplies soon? Yeah, yeah. I am the captain, you know. I do know some things.”

Iwaizumi just looked him up and down slowly, pointedly narrowing his eyes at the puddle of milk Tooru still hadn’t – and probably wouldn’t – clean up. “Yeah. And one day you’re going to start acting like it. Now shoo, I need my five minutes of idiot-free time.”

“Yes, mom.”

“You have a really shitty personality.”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, I’ll go now.”

Iwaizumi huffed, looking back down at his cereal with the kind of existential dread that could only come from the upcoming ordeal having to deal with the Seijoh Division for another long day. Again, Tooru was familiar with the feeling. He stopped halfway out the door, waiting as Iwaizumi looked up expectantly.

“Really, though. You’re the best vice-captain I could have asked for.” He started, watching as Iwaizumi’s eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion before registering the sincerity of his words and smiling back at him gently. “So thanks for following me here.”

With that, Tooru left Iwaizumi to his five minutes of idiot-free time, only feeling slightly guilty as he watched Makki make his way towards the mess room with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Only a little bit though, because Iwaizumi had just left him the job of talking to two angsty paladins about not doing their enemies job for them. God knows they had enough near-death encounters without adding their own division member onto the ever-growing list of people trying to kill them.

All, he had to decide what to do about the whole telekinesis thing. That’s fine though, he can just add the floating-breakfast-incident to Oikawa Tooru’s List of Bullshit to Put Up With.

That’s fine though. Everything’s just fine.

After he washed all the milk off and shoved his pyjamas into the washing bin to deal with later, he went to watch the stars. The stars were, after all, the one constant thing in his life.

Little five-year-old Tooru had watched those stars with his parents. Little five-year-old Tooru had loved them, learning everything he could about space before being distracted by his friends laughter, by his parents smiles.

Six-year-old Tooru had watched those same stars, flying away from a family he’d never see again. Standing next to a boy his own age – a human boy, who had told the paladins that came to rescue them Tooru was his friend, that Tooru was human. Six-year-old Tooru had watched those stars with his hand in another’s. Not yet understanding what those stars meant – not yet understanding that he’d never see his family again, or that in a few hours’ time he’d grow to despise the boy that had saved his life.

At seven, eight, and nine, the stars had been Tooru’s only solace. He’d watched them from the small planet he’d moved to. Tried to show them to his new family, who simply laughed at him. Told him to keep his feet planted on the earth and his head below the clouds. From then on, Tooru had stored those stars away. Learned the names of all the stars he could see, and then gone and learned more. He’d spent hours in a library meant for adults, pouring over maps of the universe and making a place for each star in his mind.

At seven, eight, and nine, Tooru had recreated the whole universe in his mind, and then dreamed of more.

At ten, Tooru had learned to share the universe again. When a little boy called Iwaizumi Hajime moved next door to him, and Tooru had opened up the universe in his mind once again.

Ten to fourteen, Tooru had watched as the world ignored his universe. At fourteen, Tooru had decided the stars he saw in the sky and the stars he kept in his mind weren’t enough for him. Fourteen-year-old Tooru had decided that he didn’t owe the universe anything, that the stars were his to take, his to save.

Fourteen-year-old Tooru had told his best friend that he was going to walk amongst the stars he had only watched for years, the stars he had spent hours memorising from books and memories and dreams. Of course, Iwaizumi tried to convince him otherwise – being a paladin was dangerous, it was hard work, he’d be dedicating his life to something he didn’t fully understand – but when it came down to it, no one understood Tooru’s determination like Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi had been watching Tooru watching the stars since the day they met, and he knew full well that if the stars belonged to anyone, they belonged to Tooru. So eventually he gave up on trying to protect Tooru by stopping him fighting, and instead chose to protect Tooru by learning to fight by his side.

The three years he went through training – fifteen, sixteen, seventeen – Tooru had been closer to the stars than ever before. At fifteen he had learned more than he ever thought he could about them. At sixteen he had chosen to specialise as a pilot, and had flown between the stars, put the universe he had stored in his mind to good use. Then at seventeen –

At seventeen he’d come to four realisations. One, the universe owed him about as much as he owed it. Which is to say, nothing. The universe didn’t owe him the natural talent he saw when he watched Kageyama Tobio learn to fly, and it didn’t owe him the chance to defeat the boy he owed a life debt to, from a life he could hardly remember. The boy who had the nerve to tell him the pride that had kept him upright for years was worthless. That the one thing that allowed Tooru to stand on his own two feet was the thing holding him back.

So the first thing he learned at seventeen was that Oikawa Tooru was not a genius, because the universe had never owed him that kind of easy path.

The second thing he had realised was that he was never, ever going to join the Shiratorizawa Division. Maybe it was his worthless pride that told him he would never join the same division as Ushijima, or maybe it was the idea of being given an easy path after years of clawing his own way up to the stars.

So the second thing he learned was that if the universe was going to make him carve his own path to the stars, he damn well wasn’t going to take one someone else had made for him when the universe started feeling bad for him.

The third thing he realised was that he was in love with his best friend.

That one was fairly self-explanatory. At least that didn’t change anything, since he’d probably been in love with Iwaizumi Hajime since before he’d understood what love meant. All that resulted in was Tooru spending a few more hours each night racing through the stars, racing away from something he hadn’t even realised was following him.

The third thing he learned was that there was only one person in this universe that knew how to deal with his bullshit, he was hopelessly in love with him, and that he wouldn’t change that for the world. Even if it did mean a few nights every month dedicated to moping-about-my-unrequited-love-for-my-best-friend. Well, Oikawa always had been a fan of shitty movie tropes.

The fourth thing he realised was that none of that was going to fucking stop him.

Again, fairly self-explanatory. That worthless pride of his was going to claim the stars that he already owned. It was a matter of when and how, not if.

At seventeen, Tooru had turned down the invitation to join the Shiratorizawa Division and was instead made captain of his very own division. The Seijoh Division. He’d picked Iwaizumi as his vice-captain, and asked Hanamakki and Matsukawa to take the next leap together too. The Seijoh four, they got called.

From there it was a matter of picking the trainees from younger years and helping them grow.

He’d spotted Yahaba Shigeru first. A year younger than him – in his final year – who had also made the decision to specialise as a pilot. He didn’t have self-confidence oozing out of him in the same way that Tooru knew he himself did, but he had the same determination and pride that defined Tooru. The same hunger that could never be satisfied.

From there, he had helped Yahaba grow in all the ways he knew he could. It probably helped that the kid treated him like he had hung the stars in the sky, but then again, Tooru wasn’t entirely convinced he hadn’t.

With Yahaba came Watari Shinji. They were clearly best friends, and who was Tooru to try and split that up? Besides, he already knew clear as day what happened when you tried to split up two people that knew how to rely on each other more than they knew to rely on themselves. It was, after all, a third of the reason Tooru had adamantly refused to join Shiratorizawa.

But Watari didn’t have the kind of spark every pilot Tooru had flown with wore like a badge of honour. There was no light in his eyes when he looked at the stars, none of that hungry desire to see how far you can fly, how fast you can go, how many stars you can devour before you run out of fuel.

No, Watari was a paladin because he wanted to help people, plain and simple. So Oikawa had convinced him to switch his specialisation, become a medic instead of a pilot. It had been tricky trying to jump through all those hoops to switch his specialisation in his third year – a whole year after they chose their specialisations – but it was clear it was the right decision.

Even command nodded their approval when they saw the way Watari’s eyes shone as he saved lives, begrudgingly admitting that Tooru had seen what they hadn’t.

It was a few months later that he had found Kyoutani. Of course he had heard of Kyoutani before – the kid was famous within the league, and not necessarily for the right reasons.

Before Tooru had met him himself, he had assumed that what everyone else said was right. It was a stupid move, and it could have cost him the most determined tank and diplomat he could have dreamed of.

Tooru had been assisting with training the second years that had chosen to specialise as tanks. He wasn’t even meant to be there, but Iwaizumi was sick and Tooru was respected and smart enough that he was allowed to help in his place. But he was so glad he was, because that was when he saw him.

Kyoutani Kentarou. Everyone was convinced he would drop out. That he was a lost cause, too full of anger to ever amount to anything within the paladin league. It wasn’t until Tooru watched him train that he saw what a lot of bullshit that was.

Kyoutani was angry, sure. But not with the other paladins. No, Kyoutani was angry with the world – Tooru could feel the fury thrumming through his veins as he watched him fight. It wasn’t a pointless fury, or one born of nothing but baseless rage. This was the kind of fury that came from being wronged, for seeing how shit the world was and knowing that no one was going to do anything about it.

It was the kind of fury Tooru kept tightly wound up inside himself, so of course he had recognised it in Kyoutani.

But what really struck him was that Kyoutani never struck first. Granted, he struck with unnecessary force, putting his whole body into every blow and knocking his opponents across the floor when he only had to pin them to the ground, but still. He never struck first, not the entire time Tooru was watching him, and not ever since then.

Long story short, Tooru went back to his room that night with more than a few bruises, and equipped with the knowledge that Kyoutani knew swear words in far more languages than was normal for a human.

Needless to say, command was slightly sceptical when Tooru had asked them to let Kyoutani double specialise as a diplomat as well as a tank. Only incredibly dedicated, hardworking or talented people double specialised, not to mention the idea of the infamous Kyoutani Kentarou being a diplomat. But after what had happened with Watari, they decided to allow him a two-month period to see what would happen.

Sure, it took a whole lot of sleepless nights on all of Tooru, Iwaizumi, and Kyoutani’s parts, a whole lot of Iwaizumi lecturing Kyoutani, and one memorable occasion where Yahaba shoved Kyoutani into a wall, but it worked. Kyoutani became the most unconventional diplomat the league had ever seen, but if you asked Tooru, it was blatantly obvious it was what was right.

Because Kyoutani was angry at the world, and in his own angry way, he wanted to save it. All of it, not just humanity. Tooru had his suspicions about Kyoutani and why he had really joined the paladin league, but even he could tell when something wasn’t any of his business. Yet, at least.

So it had been the seven of them for maybe two months, and in that time, Tooru revelled in the rumours that Kageyama Tobio was slowly but surely becoming a failure. Natural talent only meant so much for a pilot who couldn’t work with a team.

Now, saying he revelled in it made him sound like a little bit of a sadistic villain, and Tooru was well aware he wasn’t quite the picture of morality, but in his defence before Kageyama's failure command had been trying to convince Tooru that he would be best in Seijoh. _Such a talented division_ , they had said, _could use a pilot like Kageyama._

Tooru had tried to tell them he was already planning on Yahaba joining the division, but apparently the hours Yahaba and Tooru had been putting in paled in comparison to Kageyama’s natural talent for flying. It had led to a lot of sleepless nights on his part, a lot of putting on fake smiles every time Yahaba asked for his help with training outside of lessons, and a whole lot of Iwaizumi hitting him on the head until he stopped trying to figure out increasingly elaborate schemes to get away with murder.

So yeah, Tooru was relieved when command decided that Kageyama was headed for Karasuno. The wingless crows. Tooru almost felt bad for him.

Almost, until he went to command one day to discuss the issues with transportation of goods across the Xandrian sector and possible alternate routes they could use. There, he’d seen a second year sitting outside the office, his face a blank slate.

Needless to say, Kunimi Akira immediately caught Tooru’s attention. He’ll admit, at first it was simply because he had seen him hanging around Kageyama (along with another guy whose hair vaguely resembled a turnip), but it didn’t take long to figure out what the issue was.

He could feel the indignation and quiet fury mixed with a boiling hatred that Kunimi was giving off. Tooru, of course, asked what he was doing there, and was unsurprised when he learned that Kunimi was going to quit. Apparently Kageyama had yelled at him about the lack of effort he put into training one too many times, and he had finally decided it wasn’t worth it.

Tooru immediately started formulating a plan in his head, because it would take an idiot not to see the wasted potential in Kunimi. He was a genius – unsurprisingly, given he had chosen to specialise as a brain – and it was clear that his lack of effort meant a conservation of energy that could be invaluable on the field. He told Kunimi as much, as well as casually dropping a few hints that command wasn’t expecting Kageyama to make it particularly far _(a pilot is only worth as much as he can give to his team, and you’ve probably noticed that Tobio-chan doesn’t have a particularly giving personality)._

He promised Kunimi a place in Seijoh, and a few months later – about a month before Yahaba, Watari, and Kyoutani graduated and took their official places in the Seijoh Division, Kunimi asked him whether there was a place for his turnip-haired friend as well.

It had been an easy thing to agree to, of course. Kindaichi was a powerful tank, as well as being very smart in his own right. Apparently he had been through the kind of disagreement with Kageyama that led to many nights watching sad movies and shovelling ice cream into his mouth, and was planning on quitting for much the same reasons Kunimi had been.

Kageyama, it seemed, had a habit of pushing people away until they broke.

So now here Tooru was. Captain of the Seijoh Division, flying at inter-stellar speeds among the stars, which flashed by faster than he could name them. Here he was, almost twenty years old, and he was watching the same stars that had fed him since he was five years old and filled with the belief that the universe owed him something.

Here he was, huh.

Here he stood, with his own division of paladins that were going to change the world, and carve their stories into the universe whilst they did so.

Tooru lived in a universe that had decided he was a lost cause, so here he was, writing his name into the stars for all to see.

He sighed, shaking his head to free himself of an internal monologue that he really hadn’t had the time for. No matter how proud he was of himself and his division, he had sort of been specifically instructed by Iwaizumi to talk to Yahaba and Kyoutani before one of them ended up with an injury that ran a little deeper than a black eye and wounded pride.

With that thought, the alarm went off, and Kunimi’s voice went off in the speakers.

“Can everyone please come to bridge. I repeat, can everyone please come to the bridge. We are now five light minutes from our destination, and I need to wake Kindaichi up. Also, the last time I took a flying lesson that wasn’t on autopilot through the inter-stellar rift was two years ago, so someone might want to come and land this ship. And by someone I mean Oikawa or Yaha- what? No, we’re – you need to wake up, I’m supposed to be the lazy one, _by Atia_ , Kindaichi.”

Tooru laughed gently, a smile starting to overtake his features as he made his way to the bridge. Kyoutani and Yahaba and freaky telekinetic powers can wait.

First, dragons.


	2. Into the Dragons Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kentarou did not sign up for this shit. 
> 
> Unfortunately, it appeared that Yahaba was going to drag him into it anyway.

Kentarou did not sign up for this bullshit.

Well. Technically speaking, he did, but that was besides the point. The point was that everything currently going wrong in Kentarou’s life could, in one way or another, be traced back to Oikawa Tooru. 

Well. Maybe everything was a bit of a stretch, but still. The vast majority could be traced back to Oikawa, and yes, he was extremely salty about it.

Fucking Oikawa.

Kentarou was completely aware that lately he had been forgetting exactly why it is he was running, which was made perfectly evident when he landed himself in situations like these. Or, more accurately, Oikawa landed himself in situations like these. Either way, he was uncomfortably conscious of the fact that if he forgot why he was running, then eventually he’d forget to run. 

But nooo, Kentarou had to latch onto the first tiny piece of stability he was given and decide he was safe. Not like that was dangerous or anything. Who knew, maybe it would only get him a quick death. Or maybe he’d get chased across a pea-sized planet by not-a-dragon. Who fucking knew.

Fucking Oikawa.

_Fucking Yahaba._

This was all their fault anyway. Sure, he thought that a lot, but in his defence, _an awful lot of the shit he goes through is their fault._

But whatever. That wasn’t the point. 

Or maybe it was? Honestly, at this point, he’d forgotten. It had been a really long day.

It had all started off about five minutes after he got up, when Yahaba had, in typical Yahaba style, decided Kentarou was having far too quiet a morning and decided to pick a fight with him. Right outside Oikawa and Iwaizumi's room. 

He hadn't even been doing anything, either. At least, anything outside of the usual. Maybe he woke up too late or something. Or was scowling too much. To be quite frank, Kentarou did not in any way understand how Yahaba's brain worked, and honestly had no desire to. There was probably something going on up there that would deeply unsettle him if he discovered it, and he had no interest in going through the traumatic experience of gaining knowledge about Yahaba.

Then, of course, Iwaizumi had come and broken them up, which was fair. They'd probably woken him and Oikawa up, given they were still in pyjamas. Oikawa had sort of just legged it past them whilst Iwaizumi stopped Yahaba committing murder, which was as much an act of apparent cowardice as it was the only action Oikawa had ever taken that involved the use of common sense.

But whatever. Really, whatever. Kentarou was fine, and he remained fine up until they had arrived at the planet they had been heading towards overnight, because then he remembered the fucking dragons.

They had received the call late the night before - some city from a small planet reporting dragon sightings. Which was fascinating and all, except dragons didn't fucking exist. Which Kentarou had pointed out, but he had been blatantly ignored. Well. Ignored by everyone except Yahaba, who had rolled his eyes disdainfully at Kentarou stating the blindingly obvious, because _'just because it's not a dragon doesn't mean there's nothing there, moron'._

Honestly, there was probably a division closer to the planet than Seijoh had been. But no, they were the ones who had to answer the call. Because _dragons, Iwa-chan, we have to go check it out._

To make matters worse, Oikawa had pulled him and Yahaba aside whilst everyone had been preparing to leave the homeship and launch for Yrila. He'd had a look on his face that Kentarou had long ago dubbed the _competent captain look_ , and it was probably the only time Kentarou ever listened to anything that came out of Oikawas mouth.

Which was unfortunate, because Kentarou had a black eye from being punched in the face by Yahaba and really wasn't in the mood for listening to Oikawa talk. Even if it was one of the rare occasions that he was actually being competent and talking about something that mattered. It was the principle of Oikawa talking, more than anything else. At least half of what came out was fake, and it was tedious to try and dig for the useful stuff.

"You two need to sort whatever this shit is out," he had said, and Kentarou had had a moment of clarity that started somewhere along the lines of _oh he's actually being serious_ and ended somewhere along the lines of _oh shit I do not want to have this conversation_. It was a very fluid progression. 

Oikawa kept talking and Kentarou was jammed back into reality like it was a nasty bug that had bitten him whilst he was looking the other way. "Yahaba, I don't know why you keep picking fights with Kyouken here, but it needs to stop."

Kentarou probably would have spent a little longer freaking out about the fact that apparently Oikawa was aware that it was never Kentarou that started their fights if Yahaba hadn't immediately started talking, but that was fine, he'd probably have more free time later. "I don't keep picking fights with him!"

Oikawa levelled Yahaba with a look that honestly made Kentarou wince. Not that he'd admit it. "Yahaba, I want you to tell me the last time you ever saw Kyouken-chan throw the first punch in a fight. I can wait if you want, but we don't have much time, so if you could admit defeat quickly that would be fantastic."

"I don't - I mean, I don't know if - fine. You're right."

"I know I am. You've known me for a while now, Yahaba, I'd hope you'd know that I'm always right by now."

Kentarou snorted at that, and received two almost identical glares from the two pilots. Ah, right. He'd forgotten about their freaky little pilot syncopation thing. Kinda wished he hadn't been reminded, actually.

"Look, I'm not going to tell you two that you need to become best friends or anything. But whatever this is? It has to stop. So I'm pairing you two up for this mission, and you're not going to fuck this up. Understood?"

Yahaba parroted his agreement whilst Kentarou just grunted in affirmation, receiving another twin set of glares.  
Again. Freaky.

"You two are great paladins individually, but you need to find a way to work together if we're going to make this division work. No more punching each other whenever you have an issue, no more yelling when you don't understand each other, and no more wall incidents because you're getting frustrated."

Both Yahaba and Kentarou scowled at the mention of the wall incident, because really. It had happened once, two years ago, but nobody would ever shut up about it. It was probably more annoying for Yahaba though, because he had somehow gotten most of the league and god knows who else convinced that he was some kind of perfect goody two shoes, and the wall incident was one of the few things that tarnished that oh-so-perfect reputation. 

At least, one of the few things that anyone outside the Seijoh division knew about. Clearly, Kentarou was a bit of a sore point for Yahaba. 

"Next time you have an issue, talk about it, and if you still feel like punching each other afterwards, do it somewhere that won't wake me up. Is that clear?" With that, Oikawa strutted off, and Yahaba turned on Kentarou with a scowl worthy of an award on his face.

"Don't fuck this up." was all he had said, before spinning incredibly dramatically on his heels and hightailing it the fuck out of there. Kentarou swears

So then they went to Yrilla, Yahaba and Oikawa piloting and the rest of them split between the two jets. They landed, Kentarou translated for the idiots that had never deemed it necessary to learn anything other than universal, Yahaba looked disdainfully at him, they split up to search the areas where the 'dragon' had been sighted, Kentarou had to go with Yahaba, Yahaba scowled disdainfully at him, they went into the cave, Kentarou said that something felt off, Yahaba said things disdainfully, Kentarou scowled, and long story short, now Kentarou was being chased across the city by a stellasaur. Go figure.

Ok, maybe that was a bit of an oversimplification.

To be fair, everything was going reasonably ok as they left. Kentarou had been in a jet with Watari, Kindaichi, and Kunimi as well as Yahaba, so it was actually an acceptably peaceful ride. Sure, Kunimi fell asleep on Kindaichi, but that was a regular occurrence, so he didn’t think too much on that. With Watari around to kick Yahaba or Kentarou every time they so much as opened their mouths in each other’s direction, nothing too bad happened. 

Well. Honestly, the entire ride being silent for once wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Calling it peaceful would be a bit of a fanciful elaboration – it was a lot closer to the kind of silence that stretched thing enough to snap any second. The kind of silence that held too many words within it to let you stop listening to it, but not enough of the kind of words that allowed you to snap back. It wasn’t smothering, not like people tended to imagine those kind of silences – rather it felt like they were all standing on the top of a thin sheet of glass, and a single wrong move would lead to the whole thing cracking apart and dropping them into some mysterious abyss they’d never be able to climb out of.

Wow. He really needed to get more sleep.

Upon arrival, they were met by the prinkali – king, leader, chief, whatever – of the tribe of Yrillans that had reported the dragon sighting. Kentarou actually ended up facepalming when Oikawa slowly asked her to take them to whoever was in charge with a large, shit eating grin on his face. Thankfully, Iwaizumi saw and immediately smacked Oikawa for him, because Ghaella knows he wouldn’t have been able to do that himself.

It wasn’t even as if she didn’t look like the kind of person that was in charge. She had a rich green cape swept back behind her, which immediately made her status blindingly obvious. Her short green hair was kept pulled back by a thing golden chain, and she had a gently glowing starfire necklace, the multicoloured gem standing our against her dark clothes. Her skin, too, was the same starfire shade as the rest of her people – the colours gently shifting in a way that you couldn’t quite catch. One minute it was a few different shades of blues and greens and the next it was reds and pinks and purples, and you couldn’t quite remember seeing it change.

She seemed maybe about five years older than them, but it was abundantly obvious that her tribe respected her despite that. Yrillans mostly lived in tribes, and with a tribe of a couple hundred thousand, Kairiya was in charge of what may have been one of the largest tribes in that continent of Yrilla. The larger tribes in Yrilla tended to harbour lots of stowaways, which explained why she wasn’t too keen on Oikawa. The guy was basically the poster image boy for the division, and if Kairiya was harbouring stowaways then she was probably very against the idea of calling them in the first place.

But whatever. He figured the stowaways weren’t what they were here for, and if Oikawa didn’t bother learning enough about foreign customs to figure out the blindingly obvious for himself, then it wasn’t that important that he knew.

Besides, the fact Kairiya managed to keep that many people organised was quite impressive, so Kentarou begrudgingly forgave her for genuinely believing there was a dragon around. She probably had a lot of other stuff to deal with. She didn’t need obnoxious space police shoving propaganda down her throat, or telling her that her beliefs were wrong.

Maybe half an hour later, Oikawa split them off into pairs and they went searching in the areas the ‘dragon’ had been sighted in. As promised, Kentarou was paired with Yahaba, and to be quite frank it was worse than what he expected. He’d be fine with Yahaba, if only the guy could stop insulting every tiny thing he did. Sure, he knew he wasn’t exactly the best team player, but he was better than he used to be. Probably.

Whatever. Point was, they walked into a cave at one point. To preface this entire next part, Kentarou did not want to go into the cave. He said they shouldn’t go into the cave. He explained slowly and clearly why going into a dark, abandoned cave was a bad idea. The small child who had been following them for like ten minutes told them they shouldn’t go into the cave. The kids parent, having finally found their kid, explained why they shouldn’t go into the cave.

Rockfalls, wild animals, slipping in the dark and cracking your head open, getting lost in massive cave systems, ghosts apparently were an issue, although that one wasn’t Kentarou’s point that was the kids, the entire cave system could just fucking collapse on top of them, et cetera and so on.

Yahaba went into the cave.

Kentarou followed him. 

Honestly, he should get payed more for this.

Predictably, it was dark, and Kentarou tripped over. He could literally sense Yahaba’s smirk as he pulled out a bright laser light only after Kentarou tripped and fell into a hole on two separate occasions. How Yahaba managed to convince literally the entire division that he was an innocent, harmless angel was completely beyond him, honestly.

Sure, maybe he also laughed when Yahaba slipped down a whole, but to be fair, he started it. And yeah, maybe he should have warned Yahaba about the nest of spiders he walked into, but Yahaba didn’t tell him about the bats, so they’re even. Besides, how was he supposed to know Yahaba hated spiders.

That fact that he was, in fact, completely aware of it was irrelevant.

It wasn’t until the giant rockfall that he actually said ‘told you so’, though. Arguably he could have said it sooner, so Yahaba should really have been grateful he lasted that long. People underestimated his self control, frankly. He should absolutely get an award for putting up with the fact that Yahaba continued on anyway, even after Kentarou had to pull him back from getting literally crushed by falling rocks.

Then they heard the noise. 

It was a low, rumbling sort of noise – the kind of sound that gives you goosebumps and makes you shiver, the kind of sound you instinctively know means bad news. The kind of sound that sets off some kind of primal instinct that tells you run, run, get out now.

Yahaba, of course, being the stupidly brave and moronic idiot he tends to be, only stopped for a second before continuing on at just an ever so slightly slower pace than before. Maybe Yahaba had lost his common sense along with whatever self-defence mechanisms most people got when they were born.

Kentarou, having more than two braincells to rub together, decisively did not move forwards. At least, until Yahaba turned round with an eyebrow raised in an infuriatingly cocky way, and asked him if he was scared.

So maybe he’s easily influenced. At least he’s aware of it.

In his defence, most people calling him a scaredy-cat wouldn’t affect him in the slightest. Something about Yahaba was just so infuriatingly annoying that he couldn’t help but try and prove him wrong. He was probably completely aware of it too, the bastard.

He did at least have the common sense to take his blaster out, even if he didn’t have enough to tell Yahaba to fuck off and just leave before anything bad happened. 

The main issue wasn’t even that he had no idea what was waiting for them in the cave. No, the main issue was that he was pretty sure he did know. He’d heard that sound before, and nothing good had ever come for it. Plus, if he was right, then he in particular was in a significant amount of danger.

But noo, he had to follow Yahaba in anyway, because of – because of what, his pride? He’d blame it on losing braincells that morning when Yahaba fucking punched him, but this keeps happening. He’d followed Yahaba into a spyder cell, walked into a kraken den, had a fist fight with a fucking faerie, and literally jumped out of a jet with no parachute after him. Actually, thinking back on it, he had no idea how the hell they were both still alive.

Who knows, maybe today would be the day that Kentarou payed for their absolute moronity. It was probably about time.

So yeah, he’d followed Yahaba despite the unearthly sound still coming from further within the cave. Yeah, he’d ignored the stench of rotting animal carcasses as the darkness slowly became more and more tangible. And yeah. He’d walked straight into a stellasaurs den because fucking Yahaba Shigeru had walked in first.

He was starting to think that this was becoming a problem.

Then he almost walked into Yahaba, because the idiot had only just realised there was a giant stellasaur there, and only then seemed to come to the startiling realisation that perhaps they shouldn’t have walked right in there. Too little too late, in Kentarous opinion, but hey, he’d take what he could get.

On the bright side, it really was beautiful. Its golden skin glowed softly, shifting between different colours of fire yet somehow staying the same. It was absolutely huge – maybe twice the size of their starship, expect, you know, it had eight legs and giant wings and scales everywhere. Ok, so it kinda looked like a dragon. With more legs. Also multiple layers of rotating teeth. And glowy rainbow eyes.

Ok, so he wasn’t particularly good at describing things. So sue him.

Of course the poor thing had immediately become a little unsettled upon having a bright beam of light shone into its eyes. Unsettled was ok though. Kentarou could deal with unsettled. What he couldn’t deal with was the thing immediately locking eyes with him. That kinda creeped him out. Plus, it mean he knew exactly what was about to happen.

On the bright side, it gave him enough time to shove Yahaba to the side and immediately start sprinting the hell out of there. On the downside, it meant he had to shove Yahaba really hard to the side and run the fuck out of there. 

Yahaba was going to murder him for that later. 

You know. If he didn’t die now. That would really throw a wrench in the bastards’ plans, huh.

Anyway, so now, here he was. Running as fast as he could away from a giant dragon-like creature that really, really wanted to kill him. Thankfully, they were (perhaps unsurprisingly, given they were twice the size of their starship) really quite slow, meaning as long as he sprinted really fast, he’d probably make it out alive.

The issue with stellasaurs was that they couldn’t be killed by anything that wasn’t a stellasaur. Maybe it was something to do with the multiple layers of rotating teeth or the brick-wall-thick skin. Who knows.

The most important thing was to get it away from the tribe. If he could lead it as far away from everyone else as possible, he could worry about the rest then. Come up with some sort of plan that didn’t involve dying. 

Dying did not sound like a great plan, actually.

So yeah. Here he is. Sprinting the fuck away from not-a-dragon and cursing both Yahaba and Oikawa repeatedly.

Again. He really, really did not sign up for this shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did I completely forget I had written this? Maybe. my bad :)
> 
> from here on though there's going to be an update each week though, I might do it on the same day each time but idk which day would be best so who knows
> 
> hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Next up: Kyoutani did not sign up for this shit
> 
> If you have any questions about the world this is set in, ask in the comments. I actually did plan it out pretty elaborately, I'm just terrible at finding ways to put information in without infodumping. My bad.


End file.
